


Love is like that

by maggie33



Category: HIStory2 - 是非 | HIStory2: Right or Wrong (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:06:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28175877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maggie33/pseuds/maggie33
Summary: Shi Yi Jie just wanted to do something nice (lovingly prepared breakfast) for his sick husband. It wasn't going so well.
Relationships: Fei Shengzhe/Shi Yijie
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Love is like that

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iamtheenemy (Steph)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steph/gifts).



> Rei, thank you for quick and efficient beta-reading. :)

The frying pan let out a loud clanking sound when it slipped from Shi Yi Jie’s hand and hit the counter forcefully. Shi Yi Jie cursed under his breath. He stilled and pricked up his ears in the direction of the bedroom. But luckily there wasn’t any sound, which means Sheng Zhe wasn’t woken up by the noise. He picked the frying pan up again, carefully this time. He sighed surveying the mess on the counter. Was he so spoiled by Sheng Zhe that he had forgotten how to make a simple breakfast?

He knew he wasn’t a father of the year after Yo Yo’s mother left them. But he wasn’t that bad, was he? And he did cook, sometimes. Ok, ok, he admitted it - rarely. But he was an adult, and omelette rice was definitely within his range of ability. But today everything seemed to slip from his hands. First the eggs (one was salvageable, but the one that had splattered on the floor was not) and now even the frying pan seemed too complicated to use.

“Dad?” the sleepy voice said from behind him.

_Damn it all to hell_. Shi Yi Jie flinched and the handle almost slipped from his hand again. The universe clearly was conspiring against him. And he just wanted to do something nice (lovingly prepared breakfast) for his sick husband. 

“What are you doing?” Yo Yo asked.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Shi Yi Jie asked grumpily.

“Like you’re making a mess of the kitchen,” she said.

She smiled with a soft, indulgent smile. At 11 years old her behavior was a fascinating mix of serious and responsible on one side and still childish and immature on the other. But it was possible that thanks to Sheng Zhe’s influence and teaching she was a much better cook than her father already. Shi Yi Jie couldn’t help but smile back, looking at her serious face with that cute suspicious frown forming above her eyes.

“So why are you making a mess of the kitchen?” she asked, her hands going on her hips.

“I’m making breakfast,” Shi Yi Jie said.

“Aha,” Yo Yo said slowly, clearly not convinced.

“Can you help me?” Shi Yi Jie asked, exasperated.

Yo Yo gave him a careful look.

“Xiao Fei is still asleep?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “You know, I just wanted to take care of him for once,” he added.

Her eyes lit up with sudden understanding.

“Dad, it’s just a common cold. You don’t have to worry so much. Xiao Fei will be fine in no time,” she said.

Ah, that kid... That lovely, wonderful, too-smart daughter of his.

“Fine, fine, when did you get so perceptive?” Shi Yi Jie asked, pretending to be annoyed. But he knew his smile betrayed him.

Yo Yo gave him a knowing look.

“I am your daughter, am I not?” she said, pleased with herself. “Come on, I’ll help you to make the best omelets ever.”

“I will be forever grateful to you,” Shi Yi Jie said.

Yo Yo rummaged in the drawers for a knife and a chopping board.

“I’ll cut the vegetables and you prepare rice,” she ordered.

And that’s how Sheng Zhe found them when he wandered into the kitchen, still a bit bleary eyed from sleep. He embraced Shi Yi Jie from behind and gave him a light kiss on the neck.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

Shi Yi Jie turned his head, so he could give Sheng Zhe a kiss on his cheek, luckily warm just from sleep and not from fever.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Much better today,” Sheng Zhe said.

Suddenly something barreled into them and Shi Yi Jie felt small arms sneaking around his waist.

“Me, too, me, too!” Yo Yo shouted.

She tried to embrace them both as much as her arms would allow her. Shi Yi Jie grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Yo Yo giggled, her face mashed against Shi Yi Jie’s side. She tightened her hold until Sheng Zhe started complaining that she was too strong for him, and could she take pity on the sick person, please. And somehow the embrace turned into a tickling war between Sheng Zhe and Yo Yo, which Yo Yo clearly won.

“I... give... up,” Sheng Zhe finally stuttered out in between laughter, raising his hands up.

And then he was overcome by a coughing fit. Yo Yo instantly stopped tickling him. Shi Yi Jie hurriedly gave him a glass of water. Sheng Zhe took a few sips and his cough thankfully abated.

“I’m fine, really,” Sheng Zhe said, noticing their worried looks. “I think I just swallowed too much air.”

Shi Yi Jie decided that it was time for firm decisions and someone had to take charge here, and that someone was him.

“Ok, enough of these shenanigans,” he announced. “You, bathroom,” he said, pointing at Sheng Zhe. He turned to Yo Yo.“You, vegetables.” And then he pointed at himself. “And me, rice.”

Yo Yo snorted, but she obediently picked up the knife again.

“Aww, my husband is making me breakfast. I feel so loved,” Sheng Zhe said. And he ran away to the bathroom, before Shi Yi Jie managed to punish him for that blatant disrespect.

Shi Yi Jie and Yo Yo worked without any other interruptions and soon three omelets were ready. Yo Yo made faces on each of them with ketchup: herself with two ponytails, Shi Yi Jie with his glasses, and Sheng Zhe with the lock of hair above his uneven ketchup eyes.

Sheng Zhe laughed when he saw the pictures.

“Perfect likeness, Yo Yo,” he said.

Yo Yo beamed. And Shi Yi Jie was looking at them, his heart swelling with love, and he let himself immerse into a warm feeling that was so familiar now, but still something that he would never get tired of. That feeling of happiness, which he heard in his husband’s carefree laughter and saw in the joy shining in his daughter’s eyes.


End file.
